Escape
by Sariniste
Summary: Ichigo and Orihime are happily married and about to start a family when Aizen gets himself released from prison early. Why is Aizen interested in Orihime? Can she defeat him? Hint: don't mess with a mama! Sequel to Triangle of Immortality. AU, IchiHime.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **Ichigo and Orihime are happily married and about to start a family when Aizen gets himself released from prison early. Why is Aizen interested in Orihime? Can she defeat him? Hint: don't mess with a mama! AU, IchiHime, inspired by badass!Hime from chap. 449.

This short story is set in the same AU as _Love Me Bitterly, Loathe Me Sweetly_ and _Triangle of Immortality_. It takes place after the end of _Triangle_. Ichigo and Orihime have been married for just under a year.

**A/N:** This fanfic was inspired by two things (spoiler alert for manga chapter 449 below):

1. A recent news story: "May 23, 2011, Washington DC: The Supreme Court ordered California on Monday to release tens of thousands of its prisoners to relieve overcrowding, saying that 'needless suffering and death' had resulted from putting too many inmates into facilities that cannot hold them in decent conditions."

2. Orihime's power-up in manga chapter 449 where she faced down Ginjou and defeated him.

**Pairings:** Ichigo/Orihime, one-sided Aizen/Orihime.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach.

(Originally posted on 6/3/11.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime woke up to the tantalizing smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. She glanced out the bedroom window and saw that the sky was an unusual blue, and she immediately jumped out of bed and ran to the window.

It was July in San Francisco and it was typically cold and foggy in the morning. She couldn't remember the last time the sun was out this early. She stretched out her arms and laughed at the feel of the sunlight on her bare skin.

As she was staring in delight at the sunny sky, she felt a pair of warm arms slip around her. "Hey sleepyhead, breakfast is ready."

She turned around. Her husband of nine months was grinning at her, his brown eyes alight. She could feel the strength in Ichigo's muscular arms as he tightened them around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Although his orange hair was still sticking up every which way, he was dressed in a neat polo shirt and slacks, so she knew he was about to head off to work. He let her go and gestured with his head towards the kitchen.

Giving him a happy smile, she said, "I was just enjoying the sunshine," and followed him into the kitchen.

"What?" he teased. "Do you prefer the weather of Karakura Town to San Francisco?" He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for her.

"Well," she said, "maybe only in the summer. I do enjoy the sun." Her eyes widened as she saw the repast Ichigo had prepared that morning. He normally cooked breakfast for both of them, but it looked like he had gone all out today. "What's the special occasion?"

He grinned at her. "Uh, don't you remember? We got the test back from the doctor yesterday, and you're pregnant. I think that's worth celebrating," he said, stepping close to her and bending down to plant a kiss on her lips. Pulling away from her, he gave her another quick hug.

She returned his glance with a look of pure happiness. It had been so exciting to get the news from the doctor, to start imagining what their first child would be like. Orihime looked down at her still-flat belly, and a dreamy smile passed over her face. Maybe it would be a little boy, with bright orange hair and a sulky mouth like his dad. Or a ferocious little warrior girl, waving a toy sword, glaring at all her opponents. Orihime sighed happily as images of the imaginary children passed through her mind.

After going through a really disastrous past year, they were finally settling down to a peaceful family life. They had moved from the East Coast to the West so they could both take exciting new jobs in their areas of interest, Orihime as a research biochemist at a biotech startup and Ichigo as a medical researcher at the university medical school.

They had decided to leave the scene of their painful experience involving Orihime's previous company, when a large pharmaceutical company had bought them out and required Orihime to take part in some questionable activities involving her research. Although Las Noches was now under new management, Ichigo had decided it would be best to take Orihime as far away from the corporate headquarters as possible. The new job offers had come at an opportune time, and they had both packed up and come to San Francisco to start a new life… and a family.

"Wow." Orihime looked at the plates of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, potatoes, and toast with butter and jelly. Normally, she would tear into all of them. Ichigo often teased her that she ate as much as four normal people. But today… for some reason they didn't seem as appetizing.

"Ichigo," she said, pleating her napkin in embarrassment, "It's so nice of you to make such a great breakfast for me, and a special one too… But… I'm sorry, but for some reason, I don't feel very hungry today." She looked up at him, biting her lip. She hated to disappoint him.

He just stared at her for a moment. Then he laughed. "Well, I guess you really are pregnant then. Are you feeling okay?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah! I'm feeling fine… " She paused, hesitated. "Well, maybe a little queasy. I guess the morning sickness is kicking in." She considered, her head on one side. "But it's not really bad, Ichigo."

"Are you going to need anything?"

"No. No, nothing." She glanced at the kitchen clock. "Don't you need to get to work early today?"

"Yeah." Ichigo ran a hand through his spiky orange hair. "I just wanted to make sure you were set for today."

"Don't worry about me," Orihime said, laughing. "I'll be fine."

Ichigo gave her a last, lingering kiss, then ran out the door of their flat and pounded down the stairs to catch the bus. Orihime stood to watch him through the kitchen window, her eyes following his bright orange hair as it bobbed down the street.

Then she sat down at the kitchen table to force herself to eat a little. Ichigo had left the day's newspaper, folded, at her place at the table. She shook her head, smiling. He was so solicitous of her. She picked up the paper and began to read.

"Supreme Court orders California to release 30,000 prisoners," read the headline on the front page.

Huh, she thought, that was strange. She knew the prisons were overcrowded, but wouldn't it be dangerous to release so many inmates? Well, she supposed they would only release the nonviolent offenders, so it would probably be okay. Not that they had anything to worry about, since they lived in a safe part of town. She absently finished her second sausage and started in on her third as she turned the paper to the comics section.

XxXxXxX

The prison lay at the end of a long, dusty road in the barren desert in California's Central Valley, the visitor's car bouncing up and down on the poorly maintained road. Outside the prison, the summer sun glared down, raising the temperatures into the 100s. The visitor flashed a pass signed by the warden at the gate, was granted entrance with a casual gesture from the guard.

Inside, the buildings were hot and dark. The visitor walked down the long hall, his boots clicking on the utilitarian flooring, the air hot and close and smelling of the sweat of too many men living too close together.

Inmates were crowded behind barred gates, bunking in triples in cells once meant for a single prisoner, sleeping on cots in hallways converted into group holding areas. Air conditioning was sparse and thermostats showed numbers in the 80s. Tempers were short and the lines at the infirmary had increased with the influx of knife wounds, concussions, and requests for painkillers. Recreation centers were jammed with sweating bodies, hot, dark, and noisy.

But there was one recreation center in the prison that remained uncrowded. As the visitor inserted a card key into the slot beside the door at the far end of the long hall and stepped into the room, he immediately felt the temperature drop to a comfortable level. Inside, the room was pleasant, not as utilitarian as the rest of the prison. The furniture was upholstered in rich fabrics; a large teak conference table stood at one end. A number of prisoners were sitting around it, listening to the man at the head of the table who was speaking as the visitor entered.

"…so I think it's time that we applied a little pressure to our informant. Zommari, you have a free hand to do whatever you think is necessary." The voice was calm and unhurried.

"Yes, sir," said a heavy-set man sitting near the end of the table.

"Oh, and Kaname, inform the guard that the ice machine is broken. I expect it to be fixed by 8am tomorrow."

The conversation stopped as the men turned to watch the visitor's approach.

He walked up to the table and stood before them, his gaze drawn to the man at the head of the table. All the others wore orange prison jumpsuits, but this man was dressed all in black, a black silk shirt tucked into black slacks. A cup of tea steamed at his right hand. His brown hair was casually tousled, one strand falling over his handsome, serene face. He leaned back in his high-backed chair, deep brown eyes locking on the face of the visitor. He did not look like a prisoner, but the visitor knew he was one. Indeed, he was listed as one of the most dangerous prisoners in this maximum security prison.

The visitor bowed his head. "The news we have been waiting for has arrived, Aizen-sama."

The brown-haired prisoner raised an eyebrow but did not speak.

"The Supreme Court ruled today that California must release 30,000 inmates. The justices say that overcrowding has caused delays in inmate health care and constitutes cruel and unusual punishment." The visitor's voice was uninflected and sounded almost bored.

The prisoner's face remained neutral. He lifted his cup of tea to his lips, took a sip. "And so you have news for me?" His voice was deep and resonant, with a hint of relaxed amusement behind it.

"Your lawyers have begun drawing up the papers for your release, sir. You are to be one of the first prisoners released under this new injunction."

Aizen smiled, a smile of triumph and power. "That is good news, Starrk." He brought his cup to his lips in a leisurely fashion, took a long, slow draught. "It's good to see the Supreme Court is acting according to my plans."

Starrk kept the bored look on his face, but inside, he was skeptical. Aizen might rule the prison, but he surely didn't have control over the Supreme Court, regardless of what he wanted his lackeys to think.

One of the prisoners asked, leaning forward eagerly, "What are you going to do now, Aizen-sama?"

Aizen said calmly, "This will merely give me greater freedom to continue with all the operations I had been running before the small setback of being placed inside this prison." He looked around at his minions. "And this is good news for you as well; all of you will either be released or given a high-status position here. Did I not tell you that as long as you stayed with me, nothing would stand in our way?" He paused for a moment to study their faces carefully. "However, there is one small piece of unfinished business that I am at last free to take care of." He raised his eyes to Starrk. "I want you to pick up an individual, have her delivered to my new home in a week. I should be settled by then."

Starrk forced his face to remain neutral. He disapproved of the kidnapping of innocents, but he really didn't have any choice in the matter. All of Aizen's subordinates knew that disobeying the least of his orders could mean death. "As you wish, Aizen-sama. What is the name of this individual?"

Aizen's smile widened. "Orihime Inoue."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** In which badass!Hime makes her appearance. Warning: One-sided AiHime. Very one-sided AiHime. Plus a little bit of tongue-in-cheek humor.

(Originally posted 6/24/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Orihime blinked, dazed, as everything began to come into focus. She was lying in a bed in a strange room. She felt dizzy, and put one hand to her head. The last thing she remembered was walking down a crowded street in downtown San Francisco in broad daylight. Someone had brushed against her… and then nothing.

What had happened? She sat up, forcing down the waves of dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. And where was she? She fingered the bed sheets; they were thick and smooth, of a deep magenta color, in what she assumed was satin. Peering out over the sumptuous bedding in the huge bed, she saw brightly patterned rugs dotting a gleaming cherrywood floor. An antique wardrobe stood at one wall. Thick magenta drapes hung floor to ceiling along one wall. A set of glossy cherrywood double doors with wrought iron handles stood closed at the opposite wall, with smaller doors of the same richly polished wood on another wall.

Unsteadily, Orihime got out of bed. She was wearing a thick white flannel nightgown, buttoned all the way up to her neck. She fingered it uneasily as well. She owned nothing like it. Nothing she owned was visible in the room.

What was going on? She fought down panic. There must be a reasonable explanation for what had happened. She looked down at her hands. She had accidentally scraped some skin off her left thumb while peeling carrots earlier that morning. The wound was still raw-looking, but the skin was beginning to heal. She could not have lost more than a day, based on her knowledge of her own healing process.

She heard a noise at the door and stood straighter beside the bed, pressing her back against the wall.

The door opened and a slight, black-haired man wearing a cream-colored suit entered. Orihime raised her eyes to his and gasped.

"Ulquiorra!" she said, her mind whirling with all the implications of this man's presence here. The last she had seen the man, he had been a high official with Las Noches Corporation, the company that had engineered a hostile takeover of her former employer… the company run by Sousuke Aizen, who had blackmailed her into conducting illegal experiments of a risky new medication she had developed. She wouldn't put it past Aizen to kidnap her. The man had no morals whatsoever and had at one point had an unhealthy obsession with her, not to mention wanting control of her work and all the royalties and power it would give him.

But Aizen was in jail now, serving a life sentence for his many crimes. He was no longer in control of Las Noches. Why had Ulquiorra been involved in her kidnapping? She glared at him with as much dignity as she could muster while wearing a white flannel nightgown.

"I demand to know what's going on. Why have I been brought here?" she said, hands on her hips.

Ulquiorra looked at her with the expressionless gaze she remembered all too well from past encounters in the corridors of Las Noches. "That is no longer any of your concern, woman."

"_Woman?"_ she asked incredulously. "Isn't that a bit of an archaic term to use to address me? I have a name, you know."

He looked through her. "You are to dress and follow me," he directed.

"What? I'm going nowhere without some explanations." She folded her arms, stood still, waiting.

"Explanations will be given to you," Ulquiorra said in a monotone. "However, I am not the one who has those explanations, so it is meaningless to question me." He indicated a neat pile of folded white clothing on a chair. "Now, please get dressed."

With a frustrated sigh, Orihime picked up the clothes, opened one of the doors, found it led to a closet, glared at Ulquiorra.

His face neutral, he motioned to the other door. "The bathroom is through that way."

Frowning, she entered, and stopped in astonishment just inside the door. The bathroom was the most sumptuous she had ever seen, a huge, glittering palace of white marble tile, glass, and gleaming chrome fixtures.

She set the clothes down on a chair and used the facilities, taking a perverse enjoyment in making Ulquiorra wait. After washing her hands in the palatial sink and drying them on a towel fit for a giant, she picked up the folded clothing and shook it out.

She frowned. Everything was white, from the underwear (all exactly in her size), to the pair of earrings included with the outfit. Grimacing, she held the outfit up to her body. It looked far too skimpy to cover her. The top would barely cover her breasts, and the skirt— she looked at it again. It was of some soft and clinging jersey-like material and short enough that she would have to worry if she bent over.

She was starting to get very suspicious. The fact that Ulquiorra was here was a bad sign. It meant that whoever had taken over Las Noches was taking it back to the bad old days when they operated outside the law. And why were they still interested in her? All the notes and work on the immortality process had been destroyed. Did they think she could recreate it? She frowned. The problem was that it was possible that she could. She would have to be very careful to make it clear that she no longer remembered the process. She could make a pretty convincing technical argument as to why it was no longer possible to duplicate.

Who could it be? Aizen was in jail, a life sentence without possibility of parole. Gin Ichimaru? He was in jail as well. She ran through the list of Las Noches executives, trying to guess who she knew from those days who could have gotten out so soon.

In the meantime… she looked at the skimpy outfit. She wasn't going to wear the thing to amuse her captor. She decided to put it on but wear the flannel nightgown over it. She sighed. Facing her kidnapper would be challenging enough without wearing nightclothes when she faced him down.

Ulquiorra stared at her when she exited the bathroom, but made no comment on her choice of clothing. "Follow me," he directed tonelessly.

They walked through long white corridors until they came to a heavy set of double doors. Ulquiorra knocked, and a muffled voice from within called out, "Come in."

The slender man pulled the door open to allow Orihime to enter first. She walked into a large, airy suite with tall windows facing thick trees… and stopped short in shock.

The man sitting in a high-backed white armchair, his finger in a book, smiling at her, was Sousuke Aizen. He rose, inclined his head graciously.

"Welcome, Orihime," he said in that deep, gentle voice that she remembered all too well from her past. His gaze dropped, gave a quick flick up and down the nightgown, and he smirked. "Ah, how interesting that you choose to come to me in your nightclothes." His eyes flicked again, to a large bed in an alcove off to one side, then returned to her. "Ulquiorra," he murmured, "leave us."

"As you wish, sir," said the man, bowing and withdrawing.

Orihime was left alone with Aizen, staring in horror at the man before her. "I thought—" she gasped. "I thought you were in jail!"

Aizen set the book down on a highly polished teak end table and stood up, walking toward her, fixing her with his eyes as she stood frozen in place. "And I was— until only five nights ago." He sighed ostentatiously. "Trapped in that tiny cell, alone and miserable, where _your_ testimony put me." He stopped at arm's length from her, reached out for her, stroked her cheek gently as she stood immobile, her heart pounding.

"They said you'd have no possibility of parole…" she trailed off, staring again at this author of her nightmares.

Aizen smiled. "And they were right. I have not been paroled." He was only a few inches away from her, looking down at her as though from a great height. "I have been released."

"But—" she stammered. "How?"

"California's prisons are overcrowded," he murmured, bending down to her ear. "The Supreme Court called it cruel and unusual punishment. And so… with the infinite wisdom of our great justice system… certain prisoners have been released." He sighed again. "For those of us who suffer from profound health conditions, yet who have the financial resources to obtain the ear of persons in power, it was a great relief."

She looked at him skeptically. "You're saying you bribed the prison officials. There's nothing wrong with your health."

"That's not what the doctors say." Aizen smiled gently down at her. "But enough of this banter. You surely must be curious… why I had you brought to me once again."

"Yes." Orihime remembered to be angry, and her fear and shock evaporated. "You kidnapped me! How can you do that? Do you want to go straight back to jail?"

He looked at her again, and there was something burning deep in his eyes that made her squirm inside. "They would only send me back to jail if I were convicted of a crime, Orihime. And for that to happen—" He turned, paced slowly to the other side of the room. "I would have to be caught." He turned on his heel to face her. "And I don't intend to be caught, Orihime. No one knows you're here, and no one will know."

Her heart chilled. "You mean… you're not going to let me go?"

He smiled slightly and narrowed his eyes. "I'm hoping, Orihime, that in time, you will choose to stay of your own free will."

"How could you ever even think that?" She sputtered, incoherent with shock and outrage. "What makes you think I'll forgive you for the crimes you committed against me when I worked for Las Noches?"

He sighed, turned away again, stood gazing out of the window. "You loved me once, Orihime. I hope you can come to love me again."

"What are you talking about?" said Orihime, exasperated now. "The Sousuke Aizen I knew in high school was an illusion. I loved someone who never even existed! You lied to me. You were a gang leader since you were twelve. By the time you met me, you were a murderer many times over and I never knew!"

Aizen looked back at her, his eyes wide and sorrowful. "You once told me that you loved me despite my gang connections."

"But you were still lying to me then, Sousuke! And this is crazy! You have to let me go!"

He lidded his eyes, and looked like a cat lapping cream. "Why should I let you go when you can be of so much use to me, Orihime?"

"I can't— and won't— be of any use to you, Sousuke." Her hands were on her hips now, on the white flannel of the nightgown.

"Oh, indeed you will, my dear." His voice was like velvet. "But I will be a generous captor this time. You will have a choice." His eyes flicked up and down her nightgown again, and his lips curled. "You will serve me either in business… in my chemistry lab downstairs… or in pleasure… in my bed."

Orihime gasped and took a step backwards. "What? That's just bizarre. Have you gone utterly insane?"

Aizen laughed, and took a step forward, his eyes intense. "It's true that the harshness of prison life can send the most resilient of minds around the bend."

Orihime couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "This is like something out of an old gangster movie. You can't possibly hold me against my will this way."

"Can I not?" Aizen's eyes were fixed on hers. "Las Noches has continued its pharmaceutical research even while I was… out of commission," he said delicately. "There are some interesting new drugs that can twist one's perception of reality," he said softly, holding her gaze, "or sap the will." He shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, there is a cost in loss of intellectual capability, so it would distress me to have to subject you to such things. However, should you be so recalcitrant as to refuse my offer, I might be forced to utilize… more unpleasant means."

Orihime backed up again, realized that she was at the wall. She glared at the brown-haired man in front of her. "You can't do this," she said. "I'm married. Married to Ichigo Kurosaki. And—" She stopped suddenly, realizing that she didn't want to tell him that she was pregnant. He would be certain to find some way to use it against her. She switched topics in mid-utterance. "And he's going to come here. He'll find me and rescue me. No one is more persistent than Ichigo." Her voice was certain.

"Oh really," Aizen said with a languid smile, backing her against the wall. He raised a hand to her hair, gently twirled his fingers through her curls while she glared at him and tried to twist away from his touch. "I doubt he would know where to find you. Title to this compound is held by a dummy corporation. And if— by some means— he were able to find us?" He paused while his smile widened. "That would only work out better for me, because then I could bargain with his life as well." He smirked.

She sucked in her breath and glowered at him.

"So you see, my dear Orihime, there is no escape for you. I have planned everything out very carefully. You might as well resign yourself to the situation. Now… perhaps we could spend a little time together getting reacquainted…" He looked toward the bed and moved to take hold of her forearm, and in that moment she raised her fists and knocked his arm sharply away from her face with one hand while smashing the other into his face, then ducked under his arm to stand some distance away, her hands raised defensively in a martial arts stance.

Aizen took a step back, raising his eyebrows and slowly rubbing his nose and mouth. He looked at his hand in bemusement when it came away with blood on it. "My goodness. You're packing quite a wallop," he said calmly as he took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood away. "Where did that come from? I thought you were quite the pacifist."

Panting with the sudden exertion, she waited in her defensive stance, eyes narrowed with fury, ready to attack if he came at her again. "Did you think I was sitting around on my thumbs the entire time you were in prison? I swore to myself that I would never let myself be put in a position again where I couldn't fight my way out. I've been training ever since."

Aizen rocked back on his heels, his expression serene. He did not make a further move toward her. Instead, he said, "Very well. I see that you are not yet ready to enjoy my company. That is fine, Orihime. I will not force you." He turned away but kept a watchful eye on her fists this time as he paced to the window again. "You will come to me willingly enough when I am through with you." He reached up, pulled on a bell rope hanging by the window. "For now, make yourself comfortable. I will have you shown to your lab in the morning."

Ulquiorra entered. Aizen turned to him. "Please take Ms. Inoue back to her room." He smiled at her. "And— do watch out for her right uppercut," he added ruefully, a hand to his mouth again.

As Ulquiorra opened the door and motioned her out ahead of him, Aizen said, "Next time, Orihime, wear your uniform and not your nightclothes, if you don't want to give the wrong impression."

She gripped the lapels of the nightgown firmly, glared at Aizen, and swept past Ulquiorra to the door.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo leaned forward and pounded his fist on the counter at the precinct office. "What do you mean you have to wait 48 hours before you can start a missing persons search? She would never have disappeared without telling me. She's pregnant, goddammit!"

The officer behind the desk looked bored. "I'm sorry," he said mechanically, "but we can't waste the department's resources on a search this early. It's department procedure." His face became marginally more sympathetic. "Most of the time they come home within 24 hours. She probably just decided to do something away from hubby for a while." He shrugged. "You know women, especially pregnant women."

"You don't know Orihime!" Ichigo shouted, clenching his fists. "She wouldn't do that."

The man's face hardened. "If you get this angry with her, I'm not surprised she might want to run away. You wouldn't believe how many domestic violence cases we get that start this way." He eyed Ichigo suspiciously. "If I were you, I wouldn't keep as tight a leash on your wife. Let her have a little space."

"I'm not—" Ichigo stopped and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself. His protective anger would do him no good in a bureaucracy like this. "I'm simply concerned that she's in danger. We were involved in closing a big case against some powerful criminals last year, and I'm concerned that this may be involved."

The man's eyes flickered. "All right." He pulled a pad of forms out of a shelf behind the counter, began filling it out. "I can put in a request for a departmental waiver of procedure. It'll have to go through channels. Sorry, but that's the best I can do for you."

Ichigo sighed. "Fine. Please do the best you can. Her life might be at risk."

"Yeah," the officer said, his pen scratching on the form. "We'll do the best we can. But we're short-staffed, you know, because of budget cuts."

"Right," said Ichigo. They always said that. He looked toward the door, saw the security camera mounted overhead. An idea struck him and he looked out the window at the busy street outside while the man continued to fill out the form. "Hey," he said, "can I ask you something?"


	3. Chapter 3

(Originally posted 8/11/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo stood looking down the hill from their apartment. Orihime usually walked down this street when she went shopping. The commercial district started only half a block from the front door of their building. He eyed the right side of the street. There were several chain stores: a 7-Eleven, a Big-O Tires, and a Kisuke's Kandies all in a row. He narrowed his eyes.

Then he walked down the block and turned into the Kisuke's Kandies.

He knew the founder of the chain, which had become wildly successful in a very short time, and had made the owner very rich. He had previously been a scientist who had worked with Orihime and Ichigo at their previous company, but had been forced to leave his field due to non-compete agreements with Las Noches.

He had started the candy store chain and had appeared to be completely surprised when business skyrocketed. Now he spent most of his time and money on experiments in his lab and playing with interesting new gadgets.

As Ichigo entered the store, a hologram of a blond man with a green-and-white-striped hat pulled low over his eyes crackled to life. "Hi, and welcome to Kisuke's Kandies! I'm Kisuke Urahara, and I want you to let me know personally if any of your purchases aren't totally tasty and downright delicious."

Ichigo stopped directly in front of the hologram and paused, looking into its eyes. Then he grinned at the simulation and said, "This is Worker speaking. Hello, Kisuke. Ichigo here with a priority one request."

The hologram immediately dropped its goofy grin and spoke in a different voice, indicating access to system level commands. Urahara had given Ichigo the passphrase some time ago and told him to call on him if he ever needed anything. "Systat: uptime. I have been awake for ninety-two hours, fifteen minutes, and fifty-one seconds. Maintenance mode activated. Please state your request."

"I need to speak with Kisuke directly. Can you patch me through?"

"Hold," the computer replied. "Searching…"

Ichigo waited, patiently. The tow-headed kid behind the counter was gawking at him. "Hey, mister, did you break Mr. Urahara?"

"No. I'm just a personal friend of the owner," replied Ichigo.

The hologram suddenly came to life. The kid behind the counter stared as it made a number of moves he had never seen in the programming before. The hologram smirked, adjusted its hat, and scratched the back of its neck with one hand. "Ichigo! Long time no see. What's up?"

"Something's happened to Orihime. She's disappeared," Ichigo said bluntly, "and I need your help."

The image's eyes widened. "How do you think I can help you?"

Ichigo paused. Then he tossed the open-mouthed kid a twenty and said, "Hey kid, I think you better go check the back storeroom."

The kid gulped, looked at the hologram once more, and fled to the back room.

Turning back to Urahara, Ichigo said, "The police apparently have surveillance cameras up and down this block. I think Orihime walked out here this morning and something happened to her. Actually," he continued, "I suspect foul play. Hopefully it was caught on video. Can you hack into their system and get me the surveillance video?"

"That's a pretty tall order, Ichigo," the man said. He considered for a moment. "But sure, yeah, I can do it. Why don't you go home and I'll send the data to your computer within an hour."

"Great," said Ichigo, relief flooding through him. "Thanks, Kisuke. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it. Anything for a friend. But… what do you think happened to her? Do you think our mutual acquaintances from you-know-where might have had something to do with it?"

Ichigo grimaced. "That's what I'm afraid of. Not everyone got put in jail. They still might want her, for revenge, or," he scowled and his face became deeply worried, "for something else."

He walked out of the store, his mind working rapidly, and turned toward his apartment.

Kisuke was true to his word. By the time Ichigo got home, an encrypted message was waiting for him. "Here's your video. You were right. Orihime's on it at the timestamp 10:31:22. See the man bumping into her? I identified him as Coyote Starrk, an employee of Las Noches Corporation. And it's worse than you think." There was a link to a news article announcing the release of 30,000 prisoners in California, followed by a scan of a listing of names. One was circled in red.

Sousuke Aizen.

Ichigo sucked in his breath and his eyes narrowed. If that bastard had gotten out of prison, there was no telling what he might be up to. The first thing he probably wanted was the immortality formula that Orihime had developed. He might think that she could regenerate the formula. And kidnapping her was just something Aizen would do.

Ichigo clenched his fists as he watched the dark-haired man bump into Orihime. A moment later, he was helping her into his car. It all happened so fast, it could easily have been seen as something she did of her own free will. Only knowing that Starrk worked for Aizen made it clear to him that something was terribly wrong.

He frowned. There was no way he could go to the police with this flimsy evidence. He would have to go after her himself.

He sat down at the computer and began a series of searches, starting by tracking the license plate on the car Starrk was driving. Simultaneously he began doing a search on Aizen's known movements and his properties. It would likely take a while. Aizen was certain to have covered himself well. But Ichigo's eyes narrowed in determination. He would find Orihime. He had to.

He flexed his fingers and prepared for a long night.

XxXxXxX

"Ulquiorra," Orihime said, her hands on her hips, "you have to bring me proper clothing if you expect me to work in a chemistry lab." She gestured at the skimpy white outfit with a frown. "This is simply unsafe. Exposing this much skin while handling chemicals is an unacceptable practice." She glared at his expressionless stare. "If Aizen wants me to do anything for him, he'll have to provide appropriate clothing." She turned her back on Ulquiorra and headed for the bathroom, slamming it in his face.

Then she sat down on the toilet to wait, her face grim. Waves of nausea were threatening to overwhelm her after her moment of bravado, but she pushed them down. She would win this small victory. There was no sound from outside the door. She sighed, and decided to run herself a bath while waiting.

Half an hour later, there was a tap on the bathroom door.

"Your new uniform is ready," came Ulquiorra's expressionless voice. "It conforms to your specifications."

She opened the door, her face neutral, and snatched the new clothes from Ulquiorra's hands, then retreated to the bathroom to put them on.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed. The outfit was all white again, but at least it looked like a regular uniform and not like some kind of harem outfit. It was a regular white shirt and slacks, and a pair of close-toed white shoes. The Las Noches logo was emblazoned on the front pocket of the shirt, but she couldn't do anything about that.

She threw the door open and nodded at Ulquiorra. "All right," she said. "I'm ready to go to the lab."

But before he could open the door, it was flung open in his face. A burly man entered and stationed himself to one side of the doorway. Orihime's eyes went to the entrance. Framed in the doorway, his face calm, his large dark eyes fixed on her, stood Aizen.

XxXxXxX

Ichigo jerked awake. His neck was aching and his face was pressed into something hard. Groaning, he opened his eyes and sat up. He had fallen asleep over his keyboard after working far into the night. The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, and there was a blinking message on his screen. He tried to get his bleary eyes to bring it into focus. When he could finally read it, he grinned in savage triumph.

"Got him!" he murmured, as he began to scan the file.

The search on Starrk's license plates had been successful. The car had been spotted making several trips to an isolated estate in northern California. When he brought up the public record on ownership of the estate, he saw it was owned by some company whose name he didn't recognize. A few more searches yielded no further information on the company, which to Ichigo's mind was a giant red flag.

He pulled up Google maps on the area and zoomed in. The satellite images showed a main house and several outbuildings. His eyes narrowed. That had to be it.

XxXxXxX

The brown-haired man smiled gently at Orihime as he walked slowly towards her. She had a moment of satisfaction as she noted that he did not dismiss either Ulquiorra or the burly man at the door.

His eyes traveled from her face to her clothing, and he nodded with satisfaction. "Good. That uniform suits you. I'm pleased to see you have decided to cooperate at least minimally." He smiled at her indrawn breath and scowl. "I also have an announcement. I'd like to inform you that you have a rescuer on the way." He paused to watch the expression on her face change.

"What do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

He smirked. "I mean that Ichigo Kurosaki is on his way here, just as I planned."

Her heart lifted but she kept the scowl on her face. "From what you told me yesterday, I don't think that was a part of your plan," she scoffed. "I think you're just saying that the way you always claim that everything is part of your plan. It's a psychological game you play to make everyone think you've outsmarted them." She glared at him. "But I just think you're lying. As usual."

Aizen chuckled. "Is that what you think, my dear?" His eyes were amused. "In that case, you might be surprised as to what happens when Ichigo arrives on my property. I'll make sure to save the surveillance videos so you can properly appreciate how he falls under my control." Still smiling, he spun on his heel and turned to go.

As he passed through the doorway, Orihime called after him, "You're going back to jail, Sousuke! Ichigo and I are going to send you there—again."

There was no answer except for a mocking chuckle. Then Aizen was gone and his lackey had shut the door behind him.

Ulquiorra turned to her, his gaze passing neutrally over her distressed expression. "I would advise you not to spare any more emotion on Ichigo Kurosaki," he said to her. "It will only bring you grief. Your life— and his— are now in Aizen-sama's hands." He gestured at the uniform she wore. "Your wearing our uniform means that you are once again one of us. It would be best for you and for Kurosaki to accept that."

Orihime's eyes narrowed. "I'll never accept it. I'm going to get out of here, along with Ichigo, and we're going to see all of you in jail." She stared at him, a muscle in her jaw working. "Ulquiorra, I'm surprised at you. You were so careful to stay on the right side of the law before; what made you decide to go along with Sousuke's illegal actions this time?"

Ulquiorra's face remained neutral. "I have always been loyal to Aizen-sama." He paused, looking at her, and hesitated, as though he wasn't certain if he wanted to speak. Then he said, slowly, almost reluctantly, "I suppose I do owe you an explanation." He sighed. "Previously, I had believed that emotions did not exist, or at least, that I did not have any. It was you that made me understand that was not true, when we interacted in Las Noches before."

She stared at him. "I thought then… you were a decent person, underneath. Have you changed?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think." His face was still expressionless, but there was a glint of something in his eyes. "You changed me. You made me realize that I felt… emotions… for certain individuals. Yourself, for example."

She shook her head. "If you feel that way, then why are you going along with this?"

He turned and walked toward the door. "Because I realized, when Aizen-sama was put in jail, that it left a hole in my heart."

Orihime stared at his retreating figure, completely taken aback. "You have to know he has no such feelings towards you, and would betray you in an instant."

Ulquiorra spoke without looking back. "Of course. Personally, I think he's gone insane." He glanced over his shoulder. "I think loneliness has unhinged his mind. That, however, does not change my feelings one bit." He motioned her toward the corridor. "Come. Your orders are to report to the lab."

XxXxXxX

It was much later that evening, and Orihime was back in her quarters again, when her door clicked open again. She scrambled to her feet to face her visitor. She was not surprised to see Aizen again. His face was calm but there was an underlying triumph in his expression. Her heart sank. Whatever was making him so happy could not be good news.

"Greetings, Orihime." He smiled at her, and she could sense the anticipation in his smile.

She put her hands on her hips. "Have you come to let me go?" she demanded.

His smile widened. "Why should I let you go, Orihime, when I have in my possession the lever to make you do whatever I want?" He gestured behind him, and two men came forward holding a third. The man was slumped over, only a head of bright orange hair visible as he shambled into the room between the other men holding him up. Orihime gasped. It was Ichigo. As he raised his head to look at Orihime, she saw in dismay that his face was slack, his eyes unfocused, with almost fully dilated pupils.

She spun to face Aizen, fury burning in her eyes. "What have you done to him?" she spat.

Aizen smirked. "Only a slight… attitude adjustment with one of Las Noches' experimental drugs." He gazed at Ichigo with what could have passed for fondness in anyone else, and raised his voice slightly. "Ichigo, I've brought you to your wife, so that you two can have a happy reunion."

Ichigo raised his drug-dazed eyes to attempt to focus on Orihime. To her consternation, he lurched forward as the men released his arms, and half-fell onto her. She caught him in her arms and choked out a sob. "Ichigo! Do you know what they've done to you?"

"Hime—" he ground out in a thick voice. "Ah—" and then his mouth closed on hers, and he was giving her a passionate, albeit sloppy, kiss.

In shock, she began to return the kiss, until he started to deepen it and ground his hips into hers, moaning. Disturbed, she pushed him away, even as his arms tightened around her. She broke away from him to glare in outrage at Aizen, who had been watching the entire scene with avid eyes.

"How dare you?" she cried, even as Ichigo clumsily tried to kiss her again.

Aizen was smirking again. "Now, Orihime, you should be pleased to have such an… amorous… husband." His eyes were glittering with amusement. "Perhaps I should leave you two alone." He motioned to his servants and began to retreat toward the door.

Orihime stared at him in shock and horror.


	4. Chapter 4

(Originally posted 11/30/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo stumbled against Orihime, his eyes sliding closed, and he almost lost his balance. Quickly, she slipped under one of his arms and kept him upright. She gently led him over to the bed, where he collapsed on his back, arms flung out. She carefully lifted his legs up onto the bed, adjusted his body, and pulled one of the bedspreads over his chest. He murmured something incoherent and she stroked his hair back from his face. "Hush," she whispered. "I'll protect you, Ichigo." Resolve flared in her voice.

She turned back to face Aizen, who was still standing at the door, watching her with Ichigo, amusement glittering in his eyes at the fury on Orihime's face.

"Perhaps now," he said softly, "you will be more amenable to my… requests for your cooperation."

"Never," hissed Orihime. "If you thought you could use Ichigo against me this way, you are so wrong." She glared at him. "I will never, never do anything you want now. And Ichigo and I will escape." Her voice was controlled, cold and low. "You have made your last mistake, by tormenting him this way. This is truly one of the most despicable things you have ever done—and you have done a lot of appalling things."

Aizen's smile widened. "Ah, your anger is so arousing, Orihime. I can't wait…" His lips parted, and he lidded his eyes. "Until all that anger evaporates under my hands… and tongue… when you finally come to my bed." He smirked as Orihime glowered at him, too furious to speak. Laughing, he turned to leave the room, gesturing to his lackeys to follow him.

"Oh—" he said, pausing to turn back at the threshold. "I forgot to mention some of the... intriguing properties of this new drug. With a higher dose, the subject can be made to be… less selective in the object of their affections. For example, you could be induced to come to me with as much excitement as though I were your long lost love." He smiled again, his eyes locked on her frozen face. "Or, as much as he hates me now, even Ichigo could be persuaded to fulfill my lifelong fantasy and share my bed." He licked his lips, watching her. "Just imagine," he murmured, glancing at Ichigo lying sprawled out on the bed, his hair disheveled, his long lashes lying over his pale cheeks, "that luscious body, naked underneath me, begging for my touch." He twitched his hips slightly, and his breath quickened. His eyes flicked to Orihime, who was standing transfixed with horror at his words, and he smirked, the tip of his tongue touching his upper lip. "Perhaps I might even do you the honor of allowing you to watch." His eyes narrowed. "Yes. That would be delicious, would it not?"

Orihime was staring at him in shock and horror. As she saw his lips curl upwards at the expression on her face, suddenly, without warning, her anger passed.

Instead, she felt a wave of pity and compassion overwhelm her. The man standing before her was brilliant, handsome, charismatic. He could have had everything. He could have done anything. But instead, he had chosen to become small and petty, to live for revenge. She realized that she could no longer be angry at him. Instead, she was very, very sorry.

She let out her breath and her voice, when she spoke, was soft and compassionate. "Sousuke. I'm truly sorry." She looked at him, at his beautiful face covering the monster within. "When I think of what you could have been, what you could have done." She sighed, and saw his face change before her. He was surprised she was acting this way. For all his vaunted knowledge of human nature, she was not reacting how he expected.

She sat down on the bed and looked up at him. "You've even lost the grand vision you once had, and are now focusing on a trivial obsession for vengeance." She felt nothing but sadness, and even felt tears begin to burn in her eyes. "You know, Sousuke, everything you've done is a choice. You said that I loved you once. It's true. You could have gone on to earn my lifelong love. I could have been yours for real, if you had made different decisions. But now?" She looked at him steadily and calmly. "No matter what you do to me or to Ichigo now, you can own our bodies but never our minds. You can never have me the way you once did, no matter how many drugs or tortures you use." Her eyes were no longer focused on the handsome man in front of her, but on a long-ago memory. "I once would have done anything for you—willingly. You could have become the man I thought you were. But instead, you chose to become someone I could never love. Why, Sousuke? Why did you do it?" Her voice was soft and filled with sorrow.

The man standing in front of her looked utterly taken aback. She was not behaving the way he had planned for her to behave. Instead, she was tugging at something deep within him he had thought buried long ago. He had expected her to be furious and helpless with anger… and completely vulnerable to his control. People were so easy to manipulate when they hated him. They were so predictable.

But Orihime was—unbelievably, after he had kidnapped her and threatened to rape her, and then to rape her husband and make her watch—now showing _compassion_ to him? It was unheard of. Nobody was that pure-hearted. It went beyond all human tendencies. He stared at her serene face, turned up toward him now with a gentle, caring glow in her eyes.

He remembered, from long ago, another time he had seen that glow in her eyes.

_Aizen, watching Orihime as the sun rose and flushed her rosy cheeks with morning light, thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. She was a flower to rival all the opulent tropical blooms on the island. He could see in her expression that she was profoundly affected by the beauty and luxury of her surroundings, and his own response to her joy shocked him with its intensity and depth._

_He was silent for a moment as the disk of the sun gradually moved free of the earth and spread a comforting warmth over his bare arms, the hairs on his forearms gleaming gold in the sunlight. Then he said them, said the words that he had never meant before, and even though he could lie more convincingly than most people could tell the truth, now he was speaking a deeper truth than he had ever known existed. "I love you, Orihime."_

He dragged his mind away from the long-ago memories. It was a weakness. He had long ago systematically rooted out all the weaknesses in his own mind. Love was foolishness. His interest in Orihime now had nothing to do with love; it was revenge, pure and simple; it was the code he lived by, and had since he was five years old. There was no place for love in his life. He had brought her here to toy with her, to torment her, to use her, as he had used so many others; to get revenge on her for testifying against him in his trial; to show his dominance.

He stopped; realized he had been staring, transfixed, at Orihime's eyes suffused with kindness, at what almost seemed like a golden glow that surrounded her, some power or energy that he had never known before made manifest by the purity of her heart, by her simple compassion… and suddenly he realized he had nothing more to say, no will to manipulate her any more, no words to force her to subservience.

He realized he had no appetite to torment her any more.

Angrily, without a word, he spun on his heel and left the room. His servants followed him, locking the door behind him. One of them asked for further orders and he shook his head, ignoring him. He marched away down the hall, heading for his personal quarters. He did not want to talk to anyone, did not want to betray the sudden weakness that had overcome him.

Fortunately, his staff were well trained and well cowed. No one disturbed him further as he walked away and locked himself into his private rooms.

XxXxXxX

Orihime's eyes narrowed with thought as Aizen backed away from her and left the room without a word. She heard the click of the lock sliding into place and slumped on the bed, remembering that odd look she had seen on Aizen's face. It had almost seemed familiar…

She shook her head. Well, it didn't matter now. She had work to do, now that Aizen was gone. She would have to act quickly. Casting a quick glance at Ichigo on the bed, she sighed.

Then she looked around the room and made her decision. Standing up so that her body was between the elaborate brass headboard of the bed and the hidden camera she had detected the day before, she grasped the large brass knob at the top of one of the bedposts and began quickly unscrewing it. In a moment she had a large, heavy, metal object in her hand. Sliding her arm casually to her side, she yawned ostentatiously and turned the covers down, making as though she were about to slide in beside Ichigo. Then she walked over to the light switch and flipped it off, throwing the room into darkness.

Not that it mattered; she was certain there was an infrared camera trained on her as well. She sidled along the wall, hopefully out of range of the camera, the bed knob in her hand, until she came to the small half-hidden device high on the wall. She had prudently placed a chair just under it earlier that day, planning for this very contingency. Again hugging the wall, she climbed up on the chair and used the bed knob to smash the camera with one quick blow. In the infrared, it was unlikely to have detected the cold metal of the bed knob as it approached. It should have just looked like the camera had gone dark. With any luck, Aizen's men wouldn't be watching too closely.

She rushed back to the bed, pulled a small packet out from under the mattress. Quickly, operating mostly by feel, she opened the phial inside and took a quick sniff of the contents. Good.

After Aizen's threat the day before, she had decided to make good use of her time in the lab this morning, and had made up antidotes for several drugs that might operate in the way he had threatened. She sighed. She had thought she'd be using it on herself, so had calculated the dosage for her own body weight rather than Ichigo's. However, luckily, she had made two doses of each of the antidotes, just in case.

She quickly climbed up onto the bed and located Ichigo's face with her hands. He stirred and muttered as she touched him, and once again she shushed him gently. "Here, Ichigo, you need to sit up," she whispered.

"Huh?" he asked groggily, but he finally yielded to her gentle pushing.

"You have to swallow this medicine, Ichigo," she said in her firmest whisper. She tipped the contents of the phial onto his tongue, felt his Adam's apple with her hand to make sure he swallowed. "Good. That'll take effect in about ten minutes," she whispered as she climbed back out of bed.

Ichigo let out a long sigh, halfway to a groan, and then slid back into bed. Orihime bustled around the room as her eyes gradually adjusted to the dimness, gathering up a packet of small objects she had been collecting during her captivity: a fork and spoon from lunch (she hadn't been given a knife), several items from the lab that she had secreted in her uniform pockets: a small coil of wire, a shard of glass from a beaker she had broken accidentally-on-purpose, and the set of phials of antidotes. Then she unrolled a couple of black lab coats to cover their bright white uniforms, and put one on.

She went to the window and looked again at the wiring of the alarm system along the edge of the window sill. She had examined it the day before, and thought she understood how it worked. Crossing her fingers mentally, she took a strand of wire and clipped it off with the glass shard, pressing it against the brass knob. Then she carefully wound each of the ends of the strand around what she thought were the two terminals of the alarm. Taking a deep breath, she unlatched the window and slid it cautiously open. The wire maintained the circuit and no alarm sounded. She reminded herself that there could be a silent alarm. But somehow she expected that her room would have been set up with an audible and very loud alarm for the intimidation value.

So far, so good. She glanced over at the bed, her eyes having at last fully accustomed themselves to the darkness. Ichigo was finally stirring. He groaned. "Orihime?" he asked.

Her heart surged with relief at hearing his familiar, undrugged voice once again. "Shhh," she cautioned. "I'm not sure if there are bugs in the room I missed," she whispered. Quickly, she gave him the necessary facts to orient him. "Aizen drugged you; I've just given you the antidote. We're in a second-floor room and need to escape. Can you tie the bed sheets together to make a rope?"

She saw to her relief that awareness and intelligence had returned to his brown eyes. With only a brief glance at their surroundings, he nodded once and then began pulling the sheets off the bed to comply with her request. She went back to her work at the window.

In a few moments he was done and was handing her a long rope, one end tied to the bedpost, for her to drop out the opening in the window. "Thanks," she whispered and he gave her that wonderful flashing smile before taking the black lab coat she had handed him and sliding into it.

She was just about to lift one leg over the windowsill when his arm stopped her. He was scowling. "You let me go out first, Orihime. What if the rope breaks?"

She sighed at his protectiveness, but complied with his wishes. In a twinkling he was over the windowsill and tugging on the rope briefly to give her the all-clear signal. Then she followed him, rapidly sliding hand-over-hand down the makeshift rope. At the bottom, she was caught in warm arms and the two of them exchanged a brief smile and kiss before he let her down on her feet. Then they were both standing on the grounds of Aizen's property. She looked back nervously at the few lights showing in the large house, but there was no sign their escape had been detected. Ichigo jerked his head at a hedge stretching off into the distance and she followed him into the shrubbery.

As they crept along in the dimness, Ichigo whispered, "I printed out a map of this property before I came. They took it away when I was captured, but I still remember many of the details. If we go this way—" he indicated the direction with his arm, "we'll come out in a state park that borders one side of this property." He grimaced. "The Las Noches State Park."

"What?" asked Orihime in suppressed outrage, her voice still soft. "They named the park after Las Noches? How is that even possible?"

Ichigo sighed. "You know about all the budget cuts, right? Well, some bright-eyed state official decided that the way to raise money to make up for all the tax cuts was to sell off naming rights to state parks to corporations."

Orihime frowned. "Something seems off-kilter to me about that. Selling off taxpayer-owned property to whomever has the most money because companies are no longer paying enough taxes?"

Ichigo snorted as he pushed aside a heavy clump of branches. "It gets worse. When you disappeared, I tried to initiate a missing persons search with the San Francisco police department. I ran into a bunch of difficulties. I later found out that the police department has picked up a 'sponsor.'" He looked back at Orihime and raised his eyebrows. "Guess who's donated a significant portion of the SFPD's operating budget this year?"

Her jaw dropped. "No! Isn't that illegal, for a private company to influence government policy that way?"

Ichigo snorted more loudly. "Uh, Orihime, actually it's been going on for quite a while. It's called lobbying. But companies just used to hide these types of activities. Now they're getting more open about it." He shook his head. "'Sponsorship' of the police department really takes the cake."

"So does that mean Aizen has control of all the park officials too?" Orihime asked in dismay.

Ichigo set his jaw. "I think we better assume that for now. Don't expect that the park rangers will be able to help us escape, and we'll be safer."

"How far away from a city are we?" She felt her heart sink. Were they going to have to walk out of here? She had hoped they could find a kind soul to help them once they got off Aizen's property.

"Too far to walk, that's for sure." Ichigo stopped, holding back a branch from her face as she walked under it, and grinned at her. "So that's why I had Kisuke hide an extra car and some supplies for us. I had a feeling I might not be able to make it back out in my own car." His grin widened. "I've gotten a little better at planning since I invaded Las Noches on nothing other than bullheadedness."

Orihime grinned back, her heart lightening. Somehow even escaping from a kidnapper in the middle of the night wasn't so bad, if she could do it together with Ichigo.

"How far away is it?" she asked.

"Less than half a mile. Right now the hardest thing is going to be to get off his property before he finds out we're gone and sends goons after us. He's got a perimeter fence, and I think it's electrified." He scowled.

She slipped her hand into his. "It's okay. We'll figure a way over or around it," she said with confidence.

He looked back at her and his face eased. "Yeah. You're right. We make a great team, Orihime."


	5. Chapter 5

(Originally posted 12/31/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Ichigo crawled forward on his elbows over the rough ground, keeping his body low under the bushes. He could hear the faint noises of Orihime following him as they approached the lighted fence area. Branches scratched his face and poked at his stomach as he dragged his body over the earth.

They halted a few feet away from the tall metal fence, crouching under the thick shrubbery, and Orihime wriggled up beside Ichigo. They both stared at the high steel fence, Orihime with some dismay. It was at least twelve feet tall, with barbed wire at the top, and she could hear a faint buzzing sound that grew louder in its vicinity, indicating it was electrified. There were floodlights spaced evenly along the fence at regular intervals, and warning signs along the fence. Orihime shook her head. It was further evidence of Aizen's paranoia; this really seemed like overkill. In the old days, his security would have been much less obtrusive. This equipment would have seemed more appropriate for a war zone rather than a sleepy northern California rural area. Still, she frowned. It was effective in that it was going to keep them from escaping, even though it was undoubtedly intended to keep trespassers out. And it was certainly very intimidating.

"How are we ever going to get over that?" she whispered.

Ichigo had been gazing at the fence with a calculating look in his eyes. Now he flashed her a grin. "Leave it to me," he said confidently. Orihime raised her eyebrows.

The orange-haired man rolled over onto his side under the bushes. To her surprise, he lifted his shirt, exposing his toned abs. His skin appeared pale and shiny under the reflected fluorescent lights above the fence. He started running his fingernails along his skin, just above his belt line. While Orihime watched in astonishment, he curled all his fingers against his abdomen, grunted, and then slowly began to peel back a false skin. Her eyes widened as he gradually lifted what seemed like a pink plastic bag off his belly and ribs. It had smoothly conformed to his skin so that it looked natural.

Underneath the false skin was a tiny device about the size of a quarter, and a long coil of wire. Ichigo grinned at her. "Special polymer, transmitter and antenna, courtesy of Kisuke."

Orihime's mouth opened in a soundless "O" of wonder. He gave her one end of the antenna to hold and then gradually began playing it out, stringing it over the shrubbery. Then he attached it to the tiny transmitter and flicked a couple of microswitches. "This sends a signal to Kisuke, saying we're out and ready at the fence. He hacked into the local grid and will be able to cause a county-wide power failure for five minutes on our signal." He looked back up at the fence. "So we'll have to move fast." He frowned, his gaze dropping to her still-flat belly. "Are you going to be okay, climbing in your condition?"

"Silly!" Orihime laughed softly. "I'm not even showing yet. And you know I'm working out every day now, Ichigo." She glanced up at the fence. "Thirty seconds, tops!"

He narrowed his eyes at the barbed wire, and then nodded. "OK. I'll go first and throw this false skin over the top. It's one of Kisuke's new inventions: an incredibly strong, yet flexible monofilament polymer. It should protect us from being sliced by the barbed wire. But it's not that large a piece," he said, frowning, "so you'll have to be careful not to get stuck on the fence on either side."

Orihime nodded. "I can do that."

Ichigo glanced down at the tiny transmitter in his fingers, moved one more switch. "Now we wait. Be ready!"

Orihime's lips firmed and she gathered her knees under her, ready to run for the fence at Ichigo's signal. Long minutes passed with no apparent effect, and Orihime started to get nervous. Could the device have failed? Every minute they waited made it more likely that their escape would be discovered. And once a full-scale search was on for them, it was going to be very hard to evade pursuit.

Off in the distance, Orihime began to hear shouting, and then several dogs barking. Her eyes were round as she looked back at Ichigo. "Are they coming after us with dogs?" she whispered.

Her husband gritted his teeth. "Shit." He looked back at the antenna. "Did I arrange it right?" he muttered. "Come on, Kisuke!"

The barking of the dogs got louder.

XxXxXxX

The slender, black-haired man walked quietly down one of the long white corridors and paused before a huge set of double doors. A guard stood at attention beside the door.

"I have an urgent report for Aizen-sama," Ulquiorra said in his usual monotone to the man, who crossed his arms and stepped in front of the door.

"Aizen-sama has given orders that he is not to be disturbed tonight." The guard's voice was brittle. Aizen's orders had been quite specific: "_No one is to disturb me on pain of death."_ The guard swallowed. This was a nightmare, to be caught between the high-ranking Ulquiorra and Aizen when he could not obey both of them. He had been able to turn away everyone else who had come to his master's door tonight, but he could not intimidate Ulquiorra.

"Tell him this is a priority one override," the black-haired man stated.

The guard still hesitated. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. "You will notify Aizen-sama I am here, or I will kill you," he said tonelessly.

The guard bowed his head. "Of course, sir," he muttered, letting out his breath in a long exhale as he typed in a set of codes on a panel beside the door, and then mumbled "Ulquiorra Schiffer" into a microphone set into the wall. There was silence while the system processed the request.

Ulquiorra waited, absolutely still, his hands in his pockets. He was standing in a position where he could be seen by the surveillance cameras above the door. The guard fidgeted nervously. He, along with the rest of the staff, were all relatively new to serving directly under Aizen. Many of them had been pulled off of several other extra-legal Las Noches projects to join Aizen's personal staff this past week.

Aizen had already made quite an impression on his new staff in one short week. On the first day, he had calmly pointed out that one of the guards was inattentive— and then had casually slit his throat, walking away indifferently as blood spurted and the body crumpled to the floor. Later that day, Aizen recorded a speech on the importance of discipline, and all employees had been made to listen to it. On the third day, a meal had not been prepared to Aizen's satisfaction. An all-staff assembly had been called, and the cook had been shot in full view of everyone.

Ever since then, discipline had been flawless, and the quality of service— and of the meals—had become impeccable. Shoes were shined and uniforms ironed, and everyone stood to attention when Aizen passed.

Now, the guard sweated in fear that he would be the next one made an example of. He waited, his back to the wall, as his uniform collar gradually dampening with perspiration. But after several long minutes, Aizen's voice came from the speaker.

"You may enter, Ulquiorra."

The man passed through the doors and the guard let out a half-suppressed sigh of relief as they closed behind him, although he did not relax his alert stance before the ever-present cameras.

"What is it, Ulquiorra, that is so important that I must be disturbed at this hour of the night?" Aizen's voice was calm and quiet as usual, but any of his underlings with an ounce of intelligence would have recognized the deadly threat in those soft words.

Ulquiorra, however, did not betray any apprehension. His clear, green eyes met Aizen's. "The two prisoners have escaped. They wired around the alarm and climbed out the window. We are searching the grounds now. The dogs have been released."

Aizen's eyes narrowed. "How did this happen?" he said softly but with so much menace that even Ulquiorra could not keep from an intake of breath. "I thought Kurosaki was given a full dose of the drug. He should not have been able to walk, and Orihime is certainly not able to carry him."

Ulquiorra's voice was neutral as always. "I do not know. The infrared camera was smashed, and a crude apparatus was used to disable the window alarm. Bedsheets were tied together to make a rope out of the window, and both Kurosaki and Inoue are gone."

Aizen's eyes flared. "They clearly had inside help, then." He gazed at Ulquiorra steadily. "Who among my people is disloyal, Ulquiorra?" His eyes lingered on the man he had once thought was his most loyal servant. "Orihime does not know how to do electronics work, and Ichigo was too incapacitated to short out an alarm and climb down a rope." His voice was calm. "So, if one applies logic to the problem, there must have been another agent in the picture." He stepped forward, one hand in a pocket where he held a knife. "Who do you think that could be, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra met his eyes. "The staff were all carefully vetted, sir. You saw their security checks yourself."

"I did," Aizen breathed, standing only a few inches away from the man he had worked with for nearly two decades. "They all had clean records. So, then, who is the traitor?" His hand came out of his pocket, holding the knife. Slowly, he lifted it until the blade was pressed against the smaller man's neck. "Who was the one who originally tried to counsel me against kidnapping Orihime Inoue?"

Ulquiorra stood stock still against the blade of the knife. His face did not betray any expression.

XxXxXxX

Orihime bit her lip nervously as the dogs' barking came closer and closer and there was still no change at the fence. "Ichigo—" she began.

Then suddenly the lights all went off at once, and the low buzzing of the fence disappeared. In the sudden silence, the dogs' barking sounded quite a bit louder. Ichigo was on his feet and already halfway to the fence. In a twinkling he was swarming up the fence, throwing the pink fabric over the barbed wire at the top, and then climbing over and down the other side.

Orihime was right behind him. She hesitated a little at the top, delicately positioning her leg on the other side of the fence. Ichigo stood beneath her, his arms waiting to catch her should she lose her grip and fall.

"Ouch!" cried Orihime. One of her pants legs had gotten caught on the barbed wire, and her leg started bleeding.

"Hurry!" urged Ichigo. Behind them, on the grounds, he could see men carrying flashlights running toward them. Along the ground loped the dark shape of a German shepherd.

Orihime gave an abrupt tug and pulled her leg loose, leaving a swatch of grass- and blood-stained white fabric on the wire. She grabbed Kisuke's micropolymer fabric and started slowly climbing down the fence.

"Orihime, jump!" Ichigo called. "I'll catch you."

Not even looking to see if he was there, Orihime released her fingers from the fence and pushed herself backwards into the air. There was a heart-stopping moment as she plunged through the air. Then she landed in the strong arms of her husband. Warmth and security flashed through her for a split second as he held her in his arms. Then he was setting her on the ground and they were running.

Back at the fence, men shone flashlights through it and shouted. The dog barked. One of the men ordered another to climb the fence after Ichigo and Orihime. The man faltered for a moment, thinking of the electrified fence.

"Go on," shouted the group leader, mindful of the consequences from Aizen should they fail to recapture the prisoners.

The man placed his hands on the fence and began to scale it.

Just then, the backup generators kicked in and lights came on all over the complex. The man, halfway up the fence, froze, his fingers twisted around one of the bars. Then he stiffened. There was a sudden scream, cut off as thousands of volts arced through his body. His fingers clamped spasmodically on the fence and his body arched rigidly and grotesquely. Then the pungent smell of burning flesh filled the small clearing.

One of the men attempted to reach for his former comrade, but their leader barked harshly, "Don't touch him, you fool!" His voice quieted. "It's too late for him now." Then he looked past the fence and into the forest surrounding the compound, where Ichigo and Orihime had disappeared into the trees. Their quarry was escaping. "Come on!" he shouted. "Out the front gate now. Let's go!" And as one, the group turned and ran to the gate.

Ichigo and Orihime plunged through the forest, gasping for breath. Ichigo was leading the way toward the road where they'd come in, praying that he remembered accurately where Kisuke had stashed the car and equipment. Orihime panted along behind him. Ichigo cursed to himself. He really should be carrying her. She was pregnant and shouldn't be running like this. But when he tried to stop to pick her up, she only batted his arms away.

"Don't be an idiot, Ichigo!" she called. "It'll slow us down if you try to carry me. I can run just fine on my own." And they continued on through the dark wood. The rich, pine-scented air was fresh and cool. A thin moon cast a bare minimum of light above. The forest was absolutely still; only the sound of their footfalls on pine needles and their panting breaths marred the silence. At least that meant the dogs were still far behind them.

Ichigo growled to himself. It was a race against time. Could they get to the car before Aizen's men—or dogs—caught up with them? They should be coming upon the road soon, but with the power out, he couldn't see where the line of streetlights was.

Then suddenly there were lights right up ahead. The power had come back, and they were at the road. Ichigo skidded to a stop at the blacktop, looking left and right. Which way to the hidden car? Damn it, if he made the wrong choice it would mean death or recapture. He hesitated for a moment. Orihime came up beside him and clutched him, and her warm scent enveloped him. As awareness of his wife's closeness swept over him, and his urgent need to protect her—and their unborn child—surfaced once again, suddenly his brain kicked into high gear, and the map he had seen so briefly flashed before his eyes in crystal clarity.

"We go left," he decided with abrupt confidence. Taking Orihime's hand, he began running along the blacktop. She kept up with him easily, her warm hand in his, and he felt a sudden spurt of energy. They ran together, their feet pounding in unison on the asphalt.

But as they rounded a curve, they heard the sound of an engine behind them, and headlights began to light up the road.


	6. Chapter 6

(Originally posted 1/10/2012.)

XxXxXxX

"Quick," gasped Ichigo, yanking Orihime off the road and into some shrubbery. They crouched down under the bushes, trying to catch their breath, as the headlights neared. With a whoosh, the car passed by them and continued on, leaving them huddled under the bushes, twigs scratching their skin and poking into their faces. The pine-scented air was cool and still. In the wake of the car's passing, frogs started calling.

"Was that any of Aizen's men?" Ichigo asked Orihime, who shrugged.

"I couldn't see anything."

"Let's keep going, but be ready to hide the next time someone comes. The car shouldn't be much farther along." Ichigo's face had fallen into his typical scowl. "I think, even though it's riskier, we better run on the road. My feet sink too far into the pine needles on the shoulder to make any progress."

Orihime nodded, and they resumed their run along the road; shortly they were panting with exertion again. She looked back over her shoulder. The road was dark and silent as far as she could see. The sounds of their harsh breathing and their feet beating against the blacktop were loud in the stillness.

They went another few hundred feet before Ichigo pointed out a pale green utility box shining dimly under a streetlight. "There! That's the marker where Kisuke stashed the car." His gaze swept the undergrowth at the side of the road, and then he plunged into a bush.

Orihime followed, laughing nervously. "Eheheh, Ichigo, I hope there isn't any poison oak here."

Ichigo was pulling a camouflage net and various branches off a dark Honda sedan. As he tossed a large, leafy branch off into the bushes, he shot her a quick glance. "Orihime, we'll have a lot more to worry about than poison oak if we don't get out of here."

"Of course! I'm sorry, Ichigo." She looked so contrite that he had to stop and give her a quick kiss. Her skin was damp with sweat; she had been exerting herself probably more than she should, he thought with concern. Of course she was not complaining.

He gave her a hug and felt her relax into his arms. "Don't worry about it, Orihime. Not much longer now." He returned to the sedan and fished a key out from where it was taped under the driver's side door.

The car Urahara had provided ran smoothly and Ichigo kept the accelerator floored. Orihime gave a little squeal and clutched the handle as they nearly skidded off one of the hairpin turns on the rural road under the redwoods. Ichigo gave her a quick, sidelong scowl. "What's wrong? Don't you like my driving?"

Orihime looked pale under the flare of a passing overhead lamp. "N-no, it's okay, Ichigo! You have to drive fast so we can get out of here!" She patted his arm tentatively. "Although…" she said and then hesitated.

"What?" asked Ichigo, as the tires squealed a bit around a curve and he barely kept the car on the road. "I'm driving at the limit of the car's tolerance and for road conditions. It's only natural we might have a bit of… um, excitement."

"That's right…" Orihime nodded. "… I guess," she added under her breath.

Ichigo frowned at her again. "All right, Orihime. Out with it."

"Nothing, really! Eheheh!" she laughed. "It's just that… I'm a little sick to my stomach, and, well, your driving reminds me of Aizen, and I don't particularly want to be reminded of him right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Orihime," Ichigo could have struck himself for his insensitivity once again. With his typical thick-headedness, it had slipped his mind that Orihime was pregnant and prone to nausea. And Orihime had told him a long time ago about the way Aizen drove and how disturbing it was to passengers in the car. He eased off on the accelerator a bit. "I should have thought about how it would make you feel."

"No! No, Ichigo, please don't slow down." She waved both hands at him. "We have to get away, after all."

"No, you're right, Orihime." Ichigo continued to keep their speed up, but he wasn't skidding around the corners now. "We need to go fast but not too fast. I was just a little bit overly wound up for a minute there."

Behind them, a pair of headlights appeared, and Ichigo cursed briefly. There was silence in the car for a while. Ichigo said, "They're gaining on us, Orihime. It must be Aizen's men. Get ready to duck, okay?"

She said nothing, only stared out the back window at the gradually approaching headlights. After a few moments, flashing lights appeared behind them and they heard the growl of a police siren.

Orihime stared at Ichigo. "Do you think it's really the police?"

Ichigo shrugged and ran one hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "I don't know, but I guess we have to stop." He eased off on the gas pedal, dividing his attention between the rear view mirror and the road ahead of him.

"But Ichigo, what if it's one of those policemen who are what, getting 'sponsored' by Las Noches?" She pressed her nose to the window. "Should I try to jump out?"

"No," Ichigo decided. "We have to stop." He gave her a wry grin. "Besides, the way I was driving, it's not surprising the police would be after me." Up ahead, there was a turnout by the side of the road. He slowed, signaled, and pulled the car over.

The two of them sat silently in the car, the engine ticking quietly. The police car behind them turned on its spotlight so that everything in the car and in front of them was thrown into harsh relief, and the black shadow of their car stretched out into the dimness ahead. In the silence, they could hear the officer's boots crunching on gravel.

Ichigo rolled down the window and looked up at the large, bluff-faced man in a dark uniform, carrying a long black flashlight. The man said, "Are you aware you were doing over ninety miles an hour on a rural road?"

Ichigo looked up at him and tried a disarming grin. "Yeah, I'm sorry, but… we're in a hurry?"

The officer frowned. "May I see your license and registration, please?"

Orihime opened the glove compartment and fished around. She was not surprised to see a registration and matching driver's license with Ichigo's picture right on top. Kisuke was nothing if not thorough in his planning. She handed them over to her husband, who gave them to the cop.

He walked back to his car, boots crunching again. Orihime shot Ichigo a quick glance. "Is this where we start the car and zoom off in a shower of gravel?" A smile of mischief flickered over her face.

Ichigo snorted, but then laughed and took Orihime's cold hand in his. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "We'll get out of this."

Another car came around the bend, speeding as well. As it passed them, they saw the passenger side window roll down. There was a quick glimpse of a dark figure inside, holding something narrow and dark, glinting in the streetlights, pointing at them. Then gunshots rang out, deafening in the still night air. There was the sharp whine of a ricochet against the car, and both Ichigo and Orihime ducked. They could hear the car revving as it went by and continued off down the road.

Ichigo risked a quick glance over the headrest to see the police officer on his way back to his car. He shouted at them, "You're in luck today, fella! Drive-by shootings trump speeders. And your license came up clean, so just drive more carefully next time." He tossed the license to Ichigo and then sped off after the other car, his lights still flashing and the sound of his radio already echoing around the clearing as the sirens came on.

Ichigo looked at Orihime and then, suddenly, the release of the tension was too much. They both burst out laughing. Ichigo put the car in gear and they resumed driving down the road. Up ahead was a turnoff. Ichigo gave a quick spin of the wheel and they started bouncing over the dark, rutted road. After a few switchbacks, it emerged near the top of a hill. Ichigo pulled over to the side and cut the engine.

"Why are we stopping here?" asked Orihime. Then she gasped. Up ahead, a helicopter was approaching, its lights flashing. She gave her husband a brief dig in the ribs as he just sat there, unmoving, seemingly hypnotized by the bright flashing beams of the helicopter. "Get the engine started, Ichigo! We need to get moving."

But Ichigo was grinning. "Naw. That's Kisuke's helicopter, Orihime. The cavalry has arrived."

XxXxXxX

Orihime opened her eyes. She was lying in a narrow bed in a strange, low-ceilinged, windowless room. A small table lamp in the corner provided the only illumination. For a moment, she was disoriented before the events of the past few days rushed back in on her. Pressed up against her back, one arm thrown over her, was her husband. She smiled down at his forearm dusted with golden hair gleaming in the low light. As always, she felt warm and safe in his arms, no matter what. She sighed with contentment and moved closer to him, feeling his arm tighten around her reflexively.

From her position held snugly in Ichigo's muscular arms, she looked around the room again. They were in one of Urahara's underground bunkers, a "safe house," he had called it. She shifted in the bed and Ichigo stirred, his other arm coming around her to rest protectively over her belly.

After all the stress and worry of the last few days, it was such a relief to be in a safe place, and know she was utterly protected, first by Ichigo's love and then by Urahara's intelligence and resources. She relaxed and snuggled more deeply into Ichigo's chest.

"Mmm," he muttered sleepily. "Good morning, Orihime."

She lay there for a long while, just enjoying the closeness of being with Ichigo again. Then she glanced at her cell phone sitting on the night table beside the bed. There was no cell coverage, but she winced at the lateness of the hour. Urahara had asked them to meet with him this morning and it was past time to get up.

She dropped a swift kiss onto the top of Ichigo's head as she slipped out from under his arm to get dressed. Her clothes of last night had been whisked off by Urahara with the single word, "Evidence." Someone had gone to their apartment and retrieved some of her jeans and shirts, along with her toiletries kit. She stared at it ruefully. At least it was a sign of home… but she missed her own bedroom and her own place.

She was brushing her teeth in the tiny, utilitarian bathroom off the tiny bedroom when there was a knock at the door. It was Kisuke Urahara, looking grave underneath his floppy green-and-white striped hat.

"Good morning, Orihime." He looked behind her at Ichigo still in the bed. "Can you both meet me in the conference room in fifteen minutes? There's news."

Her chest tightened once again. From the look on his face, it wasn't good news. Her heart sank as she realized that even though they had escaped from Aizen, it certainly wasn't over yet. He was no doubt bringing his considerable resources to bear against them. She hugged her arms across her belly.

XxXxXxX

The three of them sat around a pine-topped conference table in a low-ceilinged room with pale blue walls. Urahara sat at the head of the table, his face expressionless.

Ichigo was glaring at his friend. "What's the difficulty? Aizen kidnapped my wife, and captured and drugged me illegally! We're going to send him back to jail, right?" He pounded the table for emphasis and it trembled under the impact of his fist.

Orihime's hands were placed carefully on the table. Her fingers had become slightly swollen and her wedding ring was pinching her finger slightly. As the table rattled, she felt the vibration against her hands. She felt the muscles of her shoulders clench at Ichigo's anger.

Urahara rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the ceiling fluorescents, one of which had begun to flicker. "Well, we're gathering the evidence now, and I've got two of the best lawyers in the country working on it. Don't worry."

Orihime cut in before Ichigo could respond. "When are we going to be able to go back home? I need to water the plants, and I'm sure my boss is angry that I've missed so much work."

Urahara and Ichigo exchanged an unhappy glance, and Orihime's eyes darted from one to the other. "What's that all about?"

"Well," Urahara said, scratching his stubbled chin slowly, "it's probably better for you two to stay here a while."

Her eyes grew wide. "For how long?"

"Until we can bring this trial to court."

"What?" Orihime pushed back her chair abruptly and stood up. It scraped over the vinyl tiles with a screech. "For how long?"

"Just as long as is necessary," soothed Ichigo, placing his hand on hers.

She put her hands on her hips. "I don't want to be hiding for the rest of my life!"

"Not the rest of your life," said Ichigo. "Just… a few months… no longer than a year or so—"

Orihime was shaking her head. "No. I refuse."

"Uh, Orihime?" Urahara rubbed his hand over his mouth. "It may be required for you and your child to remain in a safe location for a while longer." As she opened her mouth, he hurriedly spoke over her attempts to talk. "Only the absolute minimum time needed, Orihime! We'll do our best to get Aizen to trial quickly."

She glared at them both, legs wide apart, fists planted on her hips. "I'm not going to give birth to my baby in a cave! He'll want to see the sun!" Her voice faltered. "I want to see the sun…"

Ichigo grabbed her arms and spun her to face him. "Orihime, Aizen has all his men out and searching for you. It's not safe… not for you, or the baby." Orihime shook her head stubbornly. "Think of the baby, Orihime! Do you want our child to be in danger too?"

Orihime's eyebrows lowered at Ichigo's statement. "But it won't be just until the trial is over. Aizen was running his organization the whole time he was in jail. He bragged about it to me." Her eyes dropped and her shoulders sagged. "It'll never be over." She was standing now with her back against one of the walls, breathing hard.

"Orihime," Urahara attempted a placating smile and held his hands out, palms down. "It's just—"

"No," she said suddenly. Her voice was firm.

"Orihime," said Ichigo, "Be reasonable—"

Orihime interrupted him, something she almost never did. She turned toward Urahara. "Can you send an encrypted, untraceable email?"

He looked at her from under the brim of his hat. "Yes. Why?"

"I'll write it, and I'd like you to send it."

"To whom?"

She crossed her arms, scowling, and her voice was gritty. "Aizen."

Ichigo started. "What! Why?" he shouted. He jumped to his feet as well, glaring at her.

She tossed her hair back and lifted her chin. "We've had enough of this fighting. I want to make peace."

"You can't make peace with that bastard," ground out Ichigo, fury making his voice shake. "He's just going to lie to you."

"Yes," Urahara put in. "You can't trust him to keep any agreements."

Orihime twisted her hands together but did not back down. "It doesn't matter," she said stubbornly. "Just send the email."

The small room was quiet for a moment as the two men exchanged a long, searching look.

Orihime reached out a hand toward Ichigo. "Please…" she said, her eyes pleading. "It's untraceable; what harm could it do? You have to let me try."

Ichigo growled, "What good has negotiating with Aizen ever done?"

"Ichigo," Orihime returned, her eyes fixed on his, "How would you know? Have you ever tried?"

"No!" he shouted again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "All you can do with that bastard is fight him!"

Orihime's eyes dropped and her whole body seemed to sag. Then she looked back up at Ichigo from under her lids. "Ichigo. I have an idea. Please let me try this."

Ichigo scowled more ferociously as his eyes searched his wife's face. Her large grey eyes were wide and hopeful. He wanted to shake her, to tell her she was being stupid and reckless, to order her to just do what he told her. Then he sighed. It would be quite awful for Orihime to be stuck underground during her entire pregnancy, to have to give birth to her baby in hiding. She did have some very good ideas. And she was right; if the communication was untraceable, what harm could it do?

In the end, he realized, he had to trust his wife.

He shrugged and turned to Urahara. "Very well," he said. "Go ahead."

XxXxXxX

Urahara finished typing at his keyboard and made one last adjustment on a small device. He nodded to her. "OK, Orihime. You're on and scrambled." The videoconferencing light glowed, and Orihime tightened her lips as she turned to face the camera. Surreptitiously, she wiped her palms on her jeans and forced a neutral expression onto her face, taking a deep breath. She could do this.

She had sent Aizen an email asking to talk, and he had replied in the affirmative.

The screen cleared, showing Aizen sitting in an elegant, high-backed chair in front of a white background. As usual, he looked immaculate and relaxed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Orihime. So nice to see you again," he said smoothly. He looked off to one side. "Begin trace." He turned back to her with a friendly, open smile.

"See," Ichigo shouted. "I told you the bastard would try something. Shut it off, Orihime!"

"No," said Orihime, resolutely locking glances with her former captor in the screen. "He can't trace us, and it's better that he's being open with us about what he's trying rather than hiding it." She turned one hand palm upward and cocked her head. "Isn't that right, Sousuke?"

His smile broadened. "That's right, Orihime. I'm actually being honest with you for a change," he said with a smirk. "I'm glad that you appreciate that. Frankly, I'm quite curious what you hope to gain by speaking with me." He rested his chin in his palm and gazed at her speculatively.

She leaned back and crossed her arms. "I'm here to negotiate a truce, Sousuke."

His eyebrows climbed. "Why?"

"I'm tired of war. It's time to end this." She was proud that her voice did not tremble.

He leaned back in his chair. "Why would it be in my interest to end our little conflict? You're in hiding," he pointed out, "while I have all my resources at my command."

She looked him straight in the eyes. "You don't want to go back to jail, and we have the evidence to put you there for the rest of your life."

"Truly?" he asked, still with that look of calm amusement on his face. "Didn't I tell you that it made no difference whatsoever to my operations? You can't escape from me, even if you succeed in your misguided pursuits." He sighed ostentatiously. "Additionally, I have assembled a stellar legal team this time. I believe that your paltry case against me will crumble under the light of day."

She shrugged. "Perhaps. But do you really want to take that chance? I don't think you are quite as blasé about jail as you claim. I think you'll do anything to avoid going back." She leaned forward. "Let's meet, face to face, just the two of us, no listening or recording devices. I believe I have a set of conditions that we can both meet, and both be satisfied that the other will keep their promises."

Aizen's eyes lit with curiosity. "How could I resist an assignation with you, Orihime?" He smiled. "I accept. Name the time and place, and I will be there, alone."

She firmed her lips. "I'll send you the location and time by encoded email tomorrow morning."

Ichigo was lunging at her from the side of the room, trying to stop her from talking. Urahara, his hat askew, was grabbing the back of his jacket to keep him from reaching her. "What? No way, Orihime! You're not meeting with that bastard alone—"

Orihime cut the connection.


	7. Chapter 7

(Originally posted 1/14/2012.)

XxXxXxX

They drove to the rendezvous point, Stinson Beach, in Urahara's van. Ichigo, sitting in the front seat beside Urahara, was still arguing, fruitlessly, twisting around to glare at Orihime in the back seat, her eyes resolutely focused outside the window on the passing scenery.

"Orihime, you know he's a liar, and a damn clever bastard. I'm sure it's going to be a trap. He's likely to have all sorts of men and equipment arranged at your rendezvous point. Plus he's going to be carrying weapons, poisons, who knows what, probably hidden on his person. You know what he's done before! He's drugged both of us without our even noticing. I don't even want to be within a ten foot radius of him! Much less have you there." He stopped, took a ragged breath. "I can't believe you're risking your life like this, going against Aizen."

Urahara glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. His eyes were shrewd. "Orihime, you're not counting on Aizen being sentimental about your past relationship, are you? You know that never made a difference to him before."

She shook her head. "No." She met his eyes in the mirror. "I'm quite aware he might try—and succeed—in killing or recapturing me."

"Then why are you doing this?" shouted Ichigo. "You're risking your life against a criminal's word?"

"No, Ichigo, I already explained," she said. Her voice was patient and soft. "I can't spend the rest of my life hiding. I just can't do it. This is the only way."

"But Orihime," Ichigo said, his voice gentling, "you don't have to give up. Sure, Aizen has a lot of resources, but so does Kisuke." The blond smirked from his position in the driver's seat. "I think they're quite evenly matched; actually, Kisuke has the edge… plus, we have truth on our side."

Orihime's eyes never wavered from his. "I'm not giving up, Ichigo. This is a negotiation, not a surrender. Believe me. I would never surrender." There was steely determination in her voice.

He subsided against the side of the van, sighing again.

XxXxXxX

Ulquiorra and perhaps two dozen of his men were in the vast chamber Aizen called his "war room." A 50-foot-tall video display screen took up much of one wall; over the expanse of white carpet were scattered a few dozen workstations, most of which were manned by his employees. Aizen himself sat at a huge console desk with multiple banks of displays and several keyboards. From the throne-like chair behind the console he could control much of the sensors and weaponry at his command, as well as connect to a world-wide computer network, and send orders to Las Noches employees and agents around the globe.

At a console only slightly smaller than his sat Ulquiorra, working intently at a keyboard. Starrk lounged another workstation over, apparently relaxed, but his eyes were glued to a monitor display.

"Ulquiorra," Aizen said softly, and the black-haired man stopped what he was doing, swiveled his chair around and got up.

His face expressionless, he walked over to stand in front of Aizen's desk. "Yes, Aizen-sama?"

"Is everything in position? I want to be able to come in, make the strike, and be gone within thirty seconds."

"I have ordered our men into position, and have run multiple simulations," Ulquiorra reported tonelessly. "Everything is ready."

"Good." Aizen smiled.

"But, sir," Ulquiorra began. He hesitated. Aizen raised his eyebrows. "Sir, my analysis of the situation is that she is telling the truth, and there will be no attack against you."

Aizen leaned back in his seat and studied Ulquiorra. "So?" he drawled.

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment, then the words all came out in a rush, with unusual vigor for the normally emotionless man. "Sir, why don't you take her offer of a truce at face value, and take her up on it?"

Their eyes met, and in both of their minds was the memory of her escape a few nights ago.

_Aizen held the blade to Ulquiorra's throat and whispered, "Are you the traitor, Ulquiorra?"_

_The other man stood quietly. He did not tremble or shrink. "No, Aizen-sama. I am loyal to you. I would not have let her go against your orders."_

"_But you did counsel me against bringing her here."_

"_Because she no longer serves a useful purpose to you, Aizen-sama. Now that you have been released, there are so many opportunities for you. Why do you put so much energy into one powerless woman?"_

_Aizen's breath rasped against Ulquiorra's ears. "Did I give you permission to question my decisions?"_

"_You once said that you valued my unbiased opinion, sir."_

_Aizen gave a short bark of a laugh. "So you dare to challenge me?" The knife pressed more closely against Ulquiorra's jugular, but the man did not quiver._

"_It is not a challenge but the voice of one who is allied with your own self-interest above all else, whether you believe me or not. Kill me if you choose; then you will have one less loyal and neutral advisor among your staff. How many of us have you lost over the years?" Ulquiorra's voice was preternaturally calm._

_There was a long moment of silence. Then the brown-haired man's chest heaved. Slowly he backed away from his subordinate, the arm holding the knife dropping to his side. "Very well. You are correct that I value your views and analyses, Ulquiorra." He moved to a chair and sat down abruptly. "Do you have an alternate course of action in mind?"_

"_Yes. I think you should let them go."_

_Aizen's eyes narrowed, and his voice was tight when he answered. "And once they escape, they will go running to Kisuke Urahara. The man is wealthy beyond belief, almost as wealthy as I am. Additionally, he is perhaps the only human on this planet whose intellect rivals my own. Allied, they make formidable enemies. They will plot to put me behind bars once again." Aizen looked out at the night sky, at the forested grounds dimly visible through the plate-glass windows. "I hate being confined," he said in a low, bitter voice. _

_Ulquiorra gazed at him levelly. "Will capturing this girl help you with that? I thought once you got out of prison, you had won. Why did you feel the need to make another move?"_

_Aizen did not answer for a long time as he stared out at the darkness. Then he sighed. "Perhaps it was, as you say, a tactical error. But it is too late now. If I let them go, they will accuse me of another crime, and I will have to return to that filthy prison." He straightened and looked back at Ulquiorra. "No. I have to follow the path through to its end." His voice hardened. "My decision stands. I want you to make sure your men recapture them."_

_Ulquiorra bowed. "As you wish, sir." He walked toward the door._

_Just then, all the lights went out._

Aizen looked at the smaller man. He smiled. "Et tu, Ulquiorra? What power does Orihime have, my friend, to turn all my loyal servants against me?"

"I am not against you, sir. I am only saying… this may be your last chance to escape from the cycle of violence that you are escalating against Urahara." His eyes met his master's, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "She is offering you freedom, Aizen-sama. A chance to get off the wheel of revenge."

Aizen turned away, his face closed. "I have made my decision, Ulquiorra. And it's final."

XxXxXxX

Stinson Beach was windy and cold under a low overcast. The Pacific stretched out to the west, a stippled leaden sheet, and a chilly breeze whipped over the beach, blowing dead leaves across piles of driftwood scattered over the sand, lashing the greenish waves against the shore in an ancient, hollow rhythm.

At either end of the beach stood a pair of humans. At the south end, Ichigo and Orihime stood motionless and unspeaking as the wind whipped their clothing and hair. He gave her one last, intense hug, before taking a deep breath, standing back and letting her begin her walk up the beach. He could just barely see the two small figures at the other end: Ulquiorra and Aizen. As Orihime began walking, Aizen started strolling toward her, to meet her in the middle of the beach as agreed.

Ichigo grimaced. Urahara was nearby, probing for treachery. But there was only so much his equipment could do. As Ichigo watched Orihime walk away from him, it was all he could do to stop himself from running after her. All his instincts shouted at him that she was walking into terrible danger, that he needed to stop her. He needed to protect her.

Instead, he stood on the desolate, windy beach, feeling the salt breeze nip at his ears and deposit brine on his lips, watching the love of his life striding further and further away.

Orihime marched along the beach, her lips pressed firmly together. She was well aware that her life might be measured in minutes. She lifted her chin and covered the ground with a brisk stride, walking toward the man who had caused her more grief than any other person in this world.

He had repeatedly lied to her during their time together in high school; had caused her to lie to her dearest friends; had arranged multiple crimes with the purpose of manipulating her; had ordered deaths in front of her own eyes. When they had met again during her time as a biochemistry researcher for the Gotei Corporation, he had drugged her, kidnapped her, and threatened her; he had nearly killed Ichigo merely as a machination for one of his games.

Working together with Ichigo and Kisuke Urahara and the FBI, they had managed to corner Aizen and had sent him to jail. But the man had never stopped plotting. He had never stopped his criminal lifestyle, running his organization from within prison. He had been responsible for scores of deaths.

The man was evil. Unredeemable.

But still, as she approached him on the beach, saw the wind tugging at his hair, tousling it further; that one annoying loose curl of hair between his eyes being whipped back and forth; those long, slender limbs still moving with grace as he walked toward her over the gritty, damp sand; still, when she saw him, she could remember the boy he once was; the boy who loved math and puzzles, whose eyes lit up when he saw how happy she was during a Hawaiian vacation he had given her.

The boy who once claimed he loved her.

She walked steadily forward, nearing him. As she walked, she drew a small object out of her pocket, a gold chain bearing a small locket.

Finally, they stopped, about four feet apart, facing each other. Aizen's face bore an expression of mild amusement. Orihime took a deep breath, and then held up the locket. She was determined to get in the first word. "Sousuke," she said. "Do you remember when you gave me this?" She held the locket out so that it dangled from the chain. It hung open, and the two tiny pictures swung in the fitful breeze.

Aizen's face changed. He reached out for the locket, and their fingers touched. Orihime felt a sudden spark at the contact, and her eyes widened.

But Aizen had taken the locket and was looking at it. "You kept it," he murmured. He spun it in his long fingers, threading the bright gold strand between them. He looked up at her. "Why?"

Orihime shook her head. She didn't really know why. All she knew was that whenever she thought of throwing it away, it had seemed somehow wrong.

Aizen was smirking now, the softness that had momentarily passed over his face now gone. "Surely you don't believe that I hold any mawkishness about the past, Orihime." He tilted his head, examining her. "If you thought that you had any hold over me, that you could somehow _reform_ me with the _power of love_…" His voice became sneering and ugly. "Then you are quite definitely mistaken."

In his pocket, his fingers caressed a small remote. One push of the button, and his forces would descend on the beach. Thirty seconds and it would all be over, and Orihime would be in his possession again, for good this time. He decided to wait a few moments, however, before pressing the button; he was curious, after all, as to what she was going to say to him.

"No," she said, staring up at him, her eyes steady. "I don't hold any such illusions. I'm here with a very practical offer."

The wind rose with a ferocious wail, beating at her lips and flinging her long hair back and forth. She brushed it back out of her face.

"It's very simple," she said. "I have something you want, and have control over something you don't want. While you have the power to do something I don't want. I think that means we can make a deal."

He smirked at that. "Orihime," he replied, his voice light and almost caressing. "You are foolish if you think you can negotiate with me as an equal." He gazed at her, his eyes unreadable. "You could have had power, and wealth beyond dreams of avarice. But you threw away the secret of the immortality process, and for what?" He smiled gently. "Merely to spite me. Now was that not childish?"

"No." Orihime stood straight against the wind, against his smile. He could never persuade her to believe a lie again. "I sacrificed that power and wealth to stop you from ruling the world unopposed, Sousuke. And it was the right decision. And I can still negotiate with you as an equal, because what you really want is my mind. A thing that can never be forced." She took a step forward and stared up into his deep brown eyes. "You can kill me or torture me, but you can never take my mind. It is a gift that has to be given willingly." She took a deep breath. "That is what I have to offer you. That and the promise that we won't try to send you back to jail."

Aizen gazed at her, his look of amusement deepening. "Are you so sure I can't take what I want? He took a step closer, reached out his hand, and stroked her cheek gently. "I know something about you, Orihime. I know that you're pregnant." He smiled at her indrawn breath. "Did you think I would not find out?" He stepped closer, bent to her ear. "A mother," he whispered, "is vulnerable because of her love for her child."

Orihime drew back, trembling now. "And how would you know that?" she retorted, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Was your mother vulnerable because of you?"

For a moment his gaze darkened and she almost thought he would do what he never had, not once in their entire convoluted relationship… she thought he would strike her. Then the expression passed and his face was smooth and calm again. "Perhaps," he said, and his voice was light and mocking again. "But what matters is that I am not vulnerable. I have never had a child." He was gazing at her with that faint smirk again. "I have never been burdened with familial relationships, nor friends who are weights around my legs. I am alone, and so I am free. Whereas you are chained to the earth by your ties."

Suddenly, she laughed. "Oh, Sousuke, you still don't understand what freedom truly is, do you? You will never have control over my mind by threatening my husband or my child. As I said, my mind, and my will, can only be freely given." Her voice soared, and there on that bleak and windy beach, she suddenly felt light and powerful, as though she could fly, as though she could hold the world in her hands. "Here is the deal I propose: you agree to stop this senseless vengeance against me and my family, and in return, we agree not to go to the police with our evidence. It is locked away in a safe spot, and if anything happens to us, it will automatically be delivered to the police."

Aizen looked at her. "That's it? That's your best offer, your earthshaking negotiation?" His eyes narrowed. "I must admit that I'm disappointed, my dear. It's not really enough to excite me."

"No. I'm not finished," she said, lifting her chin. "I further offer that I will work for you, in your company, for one month every year. In return, you will keep that company completely aboveboard and legal, and will cease all illegal lines of research. I will not work on illegal or unethical products. Further, I reserve the right to choose my own research directions. But I will give you my best work. My mind, for one month out of each year."

Aizen's face changed, and once again, she saw something in his eyes that she remembered from the days long past. But now, it was tempered with profound respect. "Ah. You are right, Orihime. That is perhaps the one thing that could tempt me." He smiled at her. "You are perhaps the most brilliant biochemist of your generation, with a mind that goes far beyond that of the ordinary human. A mind…" he spoke softly, reflectively, "that almost trespasses upon the divine."

He gazed at her, considering what she was offering him. It was true, he knew. Her brilliance, the creative spark of her ideas, could never be forced from her. And it was, indeed, what would be of most use to him, what could lead his company back to greatness. She could surely not know, but Las Noches was faltering. When he returned from his incarceration and had revisited the company sites, had begun to examine the books in person, he had seen all the signs.

The most competent of his followers were gone, either in prison or having left the company. Many of those who remained were sloppy and unintelligent. His staff seemed unmotivated; the company's profits were down; there were few new products in the pipeline. He could see it well. Las Noches was in the death spiral that sometimes came to corporations that had lost the essential spark that was necessary for growth and success. It was failing. And if he were imprisoned again, he would be unable to stop that failure, the slow decline into irrelevancy, the hemorrhaging of funds… And then, at last, without money, he would be powerless once more, another irrelevant criminal locked away in the bowels of a state prison, unable to even access the small comforts he had secured before.

He gazed down at Orihime's face, at her serene, confident gaze, and felt something odd deep within himself. He reflected that it was astonishing that mere proximity to this one woman who appeared to be so powerless, so ordinary, seemed to have a profound ability to affect him, as though reality were somehow distorted in her presence, as though she could modify phenomena in the real world, could reject the nature of things, could indeed, reject his own nature, tempered and blackened by the fire of reality, a soul burned beyond recognition and redemption; could, above all else, return at least a part of him to a state it once had, before events in his life had corroded and darkened his very essence.

He stared at her as his mind rearranged itself to consider what she was offering him. He realized with a sudden inner shock that it was a precious gift; a gift he could use; but more, it was a promise. She was offering him her trust; he, who had proven over and over again that he did not deserve trust. He kept his face neutral, but within, a small bloom of something he had not felt for years was unfurling.

Ulquiorra was standing far behind him on the beach, waiting patiently and loyally for him. _"This may be your last chance to escape from the cycle of violence… she is offering you freedom."_

There was a long silence as the wind died down for a moment and the beach became almost quiet. Then he stepped back, taking his hands out of his pockets. "Three months."

Orihime looked confused for a moment. "What?" she asked.

"I want three months a year of your time. In return, I agree to grant all your conditions."

Orihime lifted her chin. "Three months the first year, then one every year thereafter."

"Done."

XxXxXxX

They argued with her, at first. Especially Ichigo. Finally she said to him, "Don't you see? It was the only way."

Ichigo said, despair in his voice, "Why can't you just stick with Urahara, stick with the original plan to take Aizen to trial?"

"Because it'll turn into a war, Ichigo. Innocent people will die." She turned to face him, her grey eyes wide and intent. "Even if we put him in jail, he's still going to go on destroying people. Don't you see that?"

Ichigo clenched his jaw. "I don't see why you have to be the sacrifice to stop him, though."

"It's not a sacrifice, Ichigo. I don't like war. And I'm not just doing it for that. I still feel bad about destroying the immortality work. There's still important research that needs to be done. I want our child to grow up in a world that's at peace, a world where we can eradicate disease, where we can ease suffering. Don't you see, Ichigo?" she asked earnestly. "Aizen's company has the distribution channels, the infrastructure in place to make sure the Souten Kisshun process gets to the largest possible number of people. If we try to develop it with Urahara, first, we'll have to build that infrastructure from scratch, and second, Aizen will always be fighting us. We need to get him on our side."

Ichigo shook his head. "What makes you think putting your work in Aizen's hands will benefit anybody? He'll just use it to bribe people, same as he did before."

"No." She stepped forward, gripped his arms. "It's different this time. Last time I was his prisoner. This time, I'm negotiating with him as an equal."

His frown deepened. "Orihime, you can't trust the bastard! And whatever makes you think you'll be able to negotiate with him? He's got far more power and wealth than either of us. How can you fight a monster like that?"

Orihime's grey eyes were wide. Then she grinned suddenly. "Because I've got a lot more experience than he has, Ichigo—in one crucial area. It's one area where I'm stronger than him, so I've got the advantage."

Ichigo stared at her in complete bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

She continued smiling at him. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "Negotiation." She looked up at him, her head on one side. "Don't you see, Ichigo? Aizen has always just taken what he wants. He's a complete novice at the type of negotiating where both sides win." Her smile became more confident. "Whereas, because I'm not a fighter, I've been bargaining and collaborating all my life. I'll be able to negotiate rings around Aizen." She put her arms around him and looked up into his narrowed eyes, a sweet smile on her face. "Come on, Ichigo; you know I can do it. You're the one who's always been telling me I can do anything I put my mind to."

Ichigo closed his eyes and groaned. "Orihime, I didn't mean for you to turn my own words against me! I just don't like seeing you in danger." But he could not stop himself from putting his arms around her.

She snuggled up to him and felt him hold her close. "I know. And I know you'll protect me, and I'm actually counting on you still doing it, Ichigo." She murmured, "I feel so safe in your arms. You'll be behind me every step of the way, and that's why I'm confident I can go even into the depths of Hell to do this work."

Ichigo looked down at the woman cuddled in his arms and muttered, "That's a good analogy, because Aizen is certainly the devil himself."

"I know you're going to be watching over me, and hopefully Urahara will lend me some of his lawyers to make sure we have an ironclad contract with Aizen."

Ichigo huffed in exasperation. "I guess I just don't see why a bastard like Aizen should get any benefit from your work."

"Will we really all be better off if there's a war where lots of people die, and the immortality process never gets put into wide use? Remember, it's still frightfully expensive. Ichigo, there are so many people dying all the time that this process could save! Don't you want our child to grow up in a world where many of the crippling diseases are stamped out, where people can live long enough to become wise, where health care can be available even to the poor? Ichigo, I want to make sure this process is available to everybody, not just the rich. And someone like Aizen is perfect to help lead this type of work."

"Why?" grumbled Ichigo. "Why wouldn't he just want to keep it for himself and a few of his cronies?"

She laughed. "Aizen doesn't just want wealth, Ichigo. He wants glory. If he's the man who brings health and long life to the world, it'll be far more to his advantage than being a petty criminal."

Ichigo frowned. "He doesn't look to me like someone who wants to be the world's benefactor, Orihime."

"No," she said sincerely, "Aizen has always wanted to stand at the top of the world. He just never really knew how to do it." She grinned at him again. "The approach he's been taking has always been doomed to failure. But we can show him how to do it right. With us as partners, who's to say what we can't do together, and what we can bring to the world?"

Ichigo scowled. "And you think you can talk him into it?"

"No. I can help him see that it'll be in his own best interest to go along with it."

Sighing, Ichigo stared at his wife, at the new, fierce determination in her. He knew that when she got this way there was no stopping her. He just hated the thought of Orihime going into danger. And then another thought struck him, making him scowl with renewed vigor.

"There's something else, Orihime. The bastard still wants you. I mean—romantically," he said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "He's still pissed off that he hasn't gotten you. How do we know—mmph?" He broke off. Orihime had taken her cheeks in his hands, and tiptoeing, had brought her lips to his. The kiss was gentle, but sweet; her lips were warm and tasted of that subtle essence of Orihime, the spicy but intoxicating flavor of the love of his life. His lips parted to meet and welcome her kiss. There was a long pause while the two of them got lost in the kiss for a few moments.

Pulling away, she laughed, "Oh, Ichigo. I can't believe you're still jealous. Don't you know the only reason I ever even dated him was because I thought you weren't interested in me?"

Ichigo scowled. "I can't believe I was ever so dense."

Orihime hugged him tightly. "You were always the only one for me. Didn't I tell you about the fortune teller who revealed you were my soul mate in five lifetimes?" She looked up at him, her eyes bright and shining. "There's no way I'll ever let you go in this one."

As Ichigo held her, their bodies pressed together, he felt an abrupt movement as the skin of Orihime's belly bulged out for a moment, taking on the shape of a tiny foot. With wonder, he realized that their child was kicking. Their child, who would be born in a world they would help shape.

Ichigo's face softened, and he traced his fingertips over Orihime's soft, slightly pink cheeks. "Good, because you're damn well mine for all of eternity, Orihime."

~THE END~


End file.
